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There once lived love on this beach.
From hilltop to ditch, it wrote under dwelling.
Raining softly tears of regret.

There once lived love in this era.
Coalescing swarms of butterflies.
Drones in a no-fly zone.

There once lived love in this edict.
To your tender I offer the world.
An empty mailbox, a disconnected phone.

There once lived love given by me.
Flames of passion, lustful winds.
A wooden universe.

There once was love stolen to the void.
Every thought, image and moment trapped in a cable.
Painted faces on a spotless canvas.

I can no longer see you.
The bridge that we shared has been detonated.
I can no longer find the source.
These eyes frightened to find you, appraise every second, a moment of complete dread.
Rushing water breaths deeply.
Grasping, grappling and groping at the foundation of a life unlived.
Of a world unseen.
Of a fight not had.
Of words of truth unspoken.
Cradle my bones that touch the sands surface.
Roost my dreams tightly bound.
Pitter-patter, the sounds of envy and jealousy.
Cold steel around your finger.
And pity the bird who called himself a snake and loved you more than a cohesive sentence could describe.
Coated white in a black hall, I sit.
Bonded into this macrocosm bleach.
We are in motion.
Bounding through rough terrain.

Knots of terror swell like sunspots ready to flare.
Carry on, until the day is through.
I sigh and dedicate the universe to solve an insignificant issue.
A thankless job, I'm sure.

The seconds move outward as I muddle forward.
The price of gas is increasing.
Watch, my friend is melding into a tonalist canvas.
I guess he can make a family now.

Greet, Handshake, Impression, Tone, Work, Enjoy, Laugh, Graceful exit.
Calibrate, vice, heat, bend, join, twist, paint.
Right, Left, Stagger, Fall, Crawl, Crouch, Right, Left.
Grieve for the piece of your soul you left with her.

In the end, here I am.
Most people seem to like me.
And I ***** my next relationship.
How can it elevate my position?
How can I use this experience to defend myself.
How far will I see this out?
I wonder if Latisha will come back.

And I meander through the underbrush of my empty field.
This grey nothingness.
As everyone else slowly leaves me behind to pursue their friends.
And I press on forward, even if alone.
To the font of knowledge to repair my broken heart.
I can see why people avoid the latest tab
As it seems to be ******* about life.
And political or religious hatred.
You'd think 2.5 million dead people would make their hearts heavy with self-reflection

but it seems not thusly so.
Just my thoughts.
To where do those memories go?
My and your soft lips meeting.
Exchanging values and ideas.
But like a conversation gone bad, you had no place in it.
Helpless.
A genius walks a lonely path.

Did our parents really ever "get" us?
Or were they just unfit to even bear the name.
Scoldings, put downs and assaults.
And the result is a childhood of treachery and miscommunication.
Misunderstood.
A genius walks a thorny path.

Where does a broken child learn they are special?
Feelings of inferiority build architectural grand designs of mental illness and rotting relationships.
And who really survives growing up?
Except me.
Childlike.
A genius rejects adulthood to walk as a child.

Why do the divine watch us?
Is it to see us suffer? To overcome the pangs of suffering and torments?
Is it truly a godlike quality to forgive? When will that be me being taken advantage of?
I know when.
Solid.
A genius gathers no moss.

Will death come? Am I to respect such a thing?
Why would his hand touch so closely my throat, my brain and my heart.
Are the dreams messages containing factual information? Guides on life?
No, they teach us what we should be to death.
Respectful.
A genius bows his head to the dead.

What is the emptiness and fullness meant to be?
Will full people live on. Scraping by on whatever happiness chance chooses to make them aware of?
Will empty people believe all belief and concept is empty? A form of solipsistic ignorance of both destiny and loved ones.
To become full and empty.
Reborn.
A genius lives to burn, burn out and be brought back to life again.

What is a genius? From the brain of a genius? Eyes that can see through fraud and deception. Including ones own.
Yeah, I mean. Its decent
From where did I come from?
From whence did I arrive.
Was I 3, 4, 5, or 6 when my eyes could see things weren't alright.
Did the earth put me here to brings peace?
Does the bird think about its past nest.
Will the sea rise.
The sun explode.
And to where do I put my parents to rest?
Will I regale my children with tales of valor?
Will I curse their existence.
Do I deserve to be alive right now?

The bird does not let its past nest hold it down.
The sea will find a home somewhere else.
And I will be, just here. Breathing deeply, to make sure I'm still alive.
I dunno. Word salad.
Sometimes the wind blows past my face.
And I ask myself "How come my dress won't fit me?"

Sometimes the bath water is cool.
And I ask myself "When will my job get easier?"

Sometimes I destroy old pictures.
And I ask myself "Will my brother be able to handle his responsibility?"

Sometimes lights scatter on my slender figure.
And I tell myself "I think I should draw now."

Sometimes people say things about being a happy person.
And I prepare myself "Work starts early tomorrow, I'll go earlier."

Sometimes I need to feel something.
And I state facts myself "That driver is a terrible driver, but I'm a good driver"

Sometimes the drugs i do make people ashamed to know me.
And I whisper to myself "Everyone around me is so stupid."

Sometimes people take advantage of my kind nature.
And I scream at myself "Ugh! Why is work so unbelievably inefficient."

Sometimes I remember I came from a broken home.
And my lungs burn with ash "But I'm trying to quit."

Sometimes I hide my darkest secrets of people who betrayed me.
And I wail at the ceiling "God this night is fun!"

Sometimes I dream about a life where I'm happy.
And I tell myself from the bottom of my heart "I'm happy to be who I am."

Sometimes I think about ending my life.
And I tell my friends "I need time and space to get better."

Sometimes I cry for no reason.
And my heart speaks to me "It'll pass."

Sometimes I remember my heart has been frozen for  decade.
And I pridefully spout "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Sometimes my nightmares give me anxiety attacks.
And I think "I need a warm shower to relax."

But tomorrow, after the dreams I can't handle have passed.
I'll forget a few more sad thing I've had done to me and have done to others.
And I'll echo the words of others to show them how stupid they are.
My heart will remain frozen to keep the few things I like about myself. Forget, forget, forget the memories that caused me so much pain. It's my only choice. Love, hate, pain, all of it has to go.
-------------------------------------------------------------­------------------------
Sometimes I think I'm broken.
And I have been broken many times.
And know he should have picked me.
Because I'm better.

Because I can control myself.
Just my interpretation of a loved ones struggle. It's difficult when I'm not working with all the available information and a treacherous wound of betrayal but. In truth, I can find solace.
I am not a brave man.

I am the face in a crowd that hides in plain sight.
An angel with baggage that keeps me from flying.
A heart so wounded, no kiss could ever heal it.
A body that refuses to say "I'm okay."

I am not a wise man.

My mistakes have cut both ways.
I have brought the world against me and my loved ones.
Always, my enemies are pushing me away.
Be gentle, you press on my wounded heart.

I lose things.

Friends I will never gain back.
Skills I could never perform without trembling.
Enemies who's insults won't be forgiven.
Words that refuse to say I love you.

I did my best.

My ignorance was turned to sunshine.
The anxiety has closed its eyes to the world at large.
I forgave my first love who moved on from my embrace.
My tears were clear enough to reveal affection from my hate.
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